(no subject)
Title: Opium Mines, Tobacco Chills, Temporary Cures
Fandom: KHR
Rating: R
-Characters: TYL!Gokudera/14!Yamamoto
-Warnings: Historical AU. Drug use. Pedophilia. Under aged drug-use. Over use of Japanese words.
Wordcount: 3.6k (3639) Beta - cruzle
Notes: Written for cruzle. She knows how much heartache this caused me and how emotional I got over it. All this for you baby. Anything for you. ♥
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Yamamoto was sure the bared thigh on Gokudera's part was intentional. The smoking man was on his illegal Victorian chair sitting sideways, long slender legs thrown over one of the arms of the chair. His claret-red yukata was sliding apart, baring the pale expanse of his thigh for the other to see. The locked room was dingy from the tobacco Gokudera was smoking from the end of his expensive kiseru. The raven-haired man had to swallow hard and keep his eyes from wandering down the man's thigh as more and more was revealed. He sat, amber eyes flickering back and forth between the other people laying around on the pillows Gokudera had strewn around the room. They were all smoking the same thing Gokudera had packed into the end of his kiseru and it was fogging up Yamamoto's mind.
The saliva in his mouth was thick and all he could do was swallow when Gokudera tilted his head back, rolling the smoke off his tongue and tapping his kiseru lightly against the back of his chair. "Yamamoto," he cooed, turning to look at the called man, his pupils wide. "You're so awkward, you can sit normally, dipshit."
"Y-yes." Yamamoto stuttered out, moving his calves away from under his weight and to the side. He licked his lips and straightened out his own jinbei, looking fretfully up at the older man. "Why are you here?" he asked, standing up and carefully approaching Gokudera, wobbling on his feet slightly. He noted that Gokudera watched his throat as he swallowed and then flicked his up to watch the sweat roll down his temple. "Gokudera?"
A small laugh left Gokudera's lips but it was cold and cruel, "Do you want to leave, Yamamoto?" He asked, pupils suddenly retracting. He stood, yukata sliding shut much to Yamamoto's displeasure. Gokudera was only slightly taller despite the ten years that separated them.
Yamamoto swallowed again and looked around, grinning smally and looking back at the door, "Yes." He mumbled, opening his shirt a little since the fog in the room was musty and hot. When he looked back at Gokudera, the silver-haired man was advancing. By second nature he winced, preparing to be hit, but Gokudera just ruffled his hair and moved to the door before stepping down and sliding on his geta. Quickly, Yamamoto followed and slid on his own geta, standing close to Gokudera and clinging onto the sleeve of Gokudera's yukata.
"You don't need to cling so much, Yamamoto. No one's going to take you." Gokudera mumbled, rubbing his eyes and stumbling over his own feet. Guilt welled up in Yamamoto's abdomen when he saw Gokudera slide his kiseru into his yukata pocket. Yamamoto just nodded and let go of Gokudera's sleeve and kept a few paces behind him. His mind was still foggy from the opium den which probably explained how he was acting. Even Yamamoto knew he was out-of-character to be so submissive besides there was nothing else he could do but fall back quietly and take Gokudera's orders.
They weren't all that bad in reality -Yamamoto was glad to follow them.
Even the clickity-clack of the horse's hooves and the roll of the wheels from the hay carts were hyper-intensive with his own state of mind -the sound ricocheted through his body. He bowed his head, looking down at his geta instead of up at Gokudera's brightly coloured yukata.
So when Yamamoto looked back up to find Gokudera, the silver-haired man was nowhere in sight.
The world slowed down and Yamamoto stopped in the middle of the street, looking at where Gokudera should had been -placed in front of him and telling him to hurry up and come along, that he wouldn't wait forever. His chest constricted and his eyes widened. He should have stayed still and waited for Gokudera to back-track but there was no time for waiting!
Yamamoto ran as fast as he could. He ran down the road, not caring if he got his tabi dirty from the mud since the last rain. It all didn't matter as he pushed through the crowds of people. They were looking at him strangely and some people tried to pull him aside, but he wouldn't let them. He slapped off their hands with an anxious smile before darting off again.
He wasn't even breathing heavy when he found himself in a part of town he didn't know. The sun was setting -they had left the den so late so that much was to be expected. The fact that he wasn't next to Gokudera making miso-shiru or a dish of men-rui for him made Yamamoto feel uncomfortable in his own skin. But Gokudera wasn't there. He shuffled himself off into a corner, by a small sake brewery and knelt down in the mud.
Maybe Gokudera would find him on his own. He kept his head bowed and listened to the sounds of the brewery behind him -he swallowed hard, half from fear and half because his spit was still so thick. The sunset was approaching quickly and people were making their way home already. Yamamoto curled up, resting his heavy head on his knees before settling down and waiting.
He didn't even know what time it was when the thugs came by -the yakuza given special pardon from the shogunate. They were carrying their weapons out in the open and Yamamoto sucked in his breath, trying not to make a sound. They walked close enough to him for him to see their irezumi tattoos and Yamamoto felt cornered. Swallowing hard, he looked up at them to find they were looking down at him. All he could do was close his eyes as they dragged him to his feet by the hem of his jinbei. Their accent was weird and it was hard for Yamamoto to keep up with their dialect. All he knew was his own and Gokudera's but he managed to pick out that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. When one of them pulled out their illegally imported brass knuckles Yamamoto swallowed hard again, preparing for the impact.
The first hit didn't hurt as much as the second and the second not as much as the third, but soon all the punches felt the same and went on through out the night.
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Opium Mines
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"You got lost."
It was the first thing Yamamoto heard when he woke up. He knew where he was sleeping -the shouji screens were illuminated with lantern light. The lightness on top of his chest signaled he only had his moufu around him. Yamamoto made a keening sound and his ribs grated against each other. His eye was swollen shut so that possibly could have explained the smoke in the room. It wouldn't have explained the disembodied voice. Even though his shoulder felt dislocated he shifted to look at the source of the voice.
Gokudera was laying down beside him on his tatami mat with his jinbei spread open wide while smoking his kiseru lazily. "And beaten. You should've followed me." He scolded, eyes raking over Yamamoto's face, taking in the scratches and the black eye. "You dumb fuck."
Instantly Yamamoto felt shame well in the pit of his stomach and spread up to blush his cheeks. He bowed his head even though he was laying down. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with Gokudera even though the older male had now moved to standing and was advancing on him quickly. "I didn't mean to get lost."
"No one means to get lost," Gokudera muttered before sitting and making Yamamoto sit up. The shriek of pain was indignant but there was so little Yamamoto could've done to prevent it. The pain was radiating throughout his body and all he could do was whimper as Gokudera manhandled him, taking inventory of all the bruises and wounds.
The way Gokudera fingered the black-eye was making Yamamoto nervous. The nerves were nothing compared to the pain of Gokudera slitting opening the bruise with the sharpened end of his kiseru. Yamamoto nearly howled but he held it in as best as he could, letting only a small mewl leave him. His blood was now torrenting down the side of his face in rivulets and dripping onto the purple moufu.
"Don't move." Gokudera said calmly, withdrawing the sharp metal from Yamamoto's face and now re-inspecting the wound. The disapproval was wafting off Gokudera and Yamamoto shuttered, closing his eyes and letting himself bleed with as much dignity he could muster. A sound was made at the back of Gokudera's throat as he squeezed the cut gingerly, getting Yamamoto's blood onto his fingers. Yamamoto's hands were tight around his moufu as he cringed from Gokudera's treatment.
Yamamoto flinched, jerking away from Gokudera's probing touch. His own fingers moved from moufu to under his blood-soaked jinbei, curling around the bruising on his ribcage with a wince. The tightening of Gokudera's grip around his jaw was uncomfortable but forgotten when Gokudera slammed his back down onto his shikibuton.
If Yamamoto hadn't known pain before, he knew it now. He screamed, unable to contain the noise as it ripped from his throat. The cracks of his ribs snapped to breaks with the force of the impact and the slits across the small of his back stretched and broke the scabs. The pain blackened the edge of his vision along with the tears that streamed out his eyes. He hiccupped, back arching from the pain, sobbed as loud as he could.
He didn't notice Gokudera straddling his waist but did notice the hand stroking his hair until the pain dulled. The relief was just enough for Yamamoto to crack out a "sorry" before crying once again. He pulled his un-injured arm up to cover his eyes and hide his tears. Gokudera was kissing the side of his neck and just below the ear, softly, to ease away the pain.
"I said stay still, you dumbass." Gokudera mumbled when he pulled away, looking down at Yamamoto. "Look at me."
The sleeve of Yamamoto's jinbei was soaking up both his blood and tears so he pulled his arm away, sniffling and staring Gokudera in the eyes. His eyes were red and puffy from crying so hard and his nose was running, but Gokudera still leaned down and kissed the slit on his temple. When Gokudera pulled back, Yamamoto spotted the blood that was smeared on his lips and also a small flicker of pity in Gokudera's jade eyes. Yamamoto choked on a sob before tossing his arm back over his eyes, baring his neck and crying once again, "I'm so sorry, Gokudera."
"Oh shush, I'm not angry," Gokudera soothed, rubbing Yamamoto's head and laying down beside him with a sigh. "Stop crying. It's pathetic." He ran the pad of this thumb down the creases of Yamamoto's hand and pressed against the calluses there. "You don't need to stop bleeding though. I'll wash it all up later."
"A-alright. I can do it though." Yamamoto reasoned, wiping his nose on his already ruined sleeve before putting it down by his side.
He felt Gokudera slide his had down his back and push Yamamoto up to sit. Gokudera moved behind him and picked up his kiseru and popped it into Yamamoto's mouth, the ember quickly catching when Gokudera lightly packed in more tobacco. "Just breath deep," Gokudera ordered, holding onto the wooden part of the kiseru for Yamamoto.
Yamamoto tried to look back at Gokudera but couldn't, so he did as told and took a deep puff from the kiseru. Smoke welled up in the back of his throat and moved down his throat, forcing him to start coughing. The pain rattled his body again and his back tightened from the twinge of his ribs. He pressed up against Gokudera, trying to find relief. When the coughing subsided, Gokudera shoved the kiseru back into Yamamoto's mouth and rested his chin on Yamamoto's uninjured shoulder. "Not as deep this time, alright?"
"Right." Yamamoto mumbled around the metal in his mouth and took a smaller pull of the kiseru, fondling the thick smoke with his tongue before breathing it out around the metal. The taste was still bitter but the texture beat it out. He pulled back again, peering at Gokudera from the corner of his eye to see if he was doing it right. He jerked slightly when he saw Gokudera's jade orbs glaring right back at him.
Only just a little off-put by the intense stare, Yamamoto moved his gaze back down at the bowl at the end of the kiseru. "Are you calmed down now?" Gokudera asked, pulling the kiseru away and putting it out.
Yamamoto nodded slightly, looking at Gokudera, his eyes finally clear and ribs only smarting him once every twitch. He swallowed again before grinning. "I’m feeling much better," he said smally, waiting for Gokudera to pull away again. But this time, Gokudera stayed there, his hand rubbing Yamamoto's injured side lighter than Yamamoto had ever felt before. Eventually Yamamoto relaxed into Gokudera's hold, slumping over just enough to take the pressure off his ribs and back, eyes sliding shut once again.
When he next opened his eyes he had been stripped of his clothing and his purple moufu had been replaced with his kakebuton. Yamamoto didn't even know when he had fallen asleep or when Gokudera had laid him back down on the shikibuton, but now the lantern-light was off and Gokudera didn't seem to be anywhere in sight. He waited for the shouji screen to slide open and reveal Gokudera, but when that didn't happen Yamamoto looked up at the ceiling instead.
There was movement outside the room but Yamamoto didn't think much of it until the shouji screen opened and Gokudera entered with a basin of water and a roll of bandages under his arm. Yamamoto sat up, much to his body's distress, and bowed his head out of respect. "You should have woken me to get the water-"
"Shut up," Gokudera snapped, placing the basin on the ground gingerly and laying the bandages next to it. "It's for you so you shouldn't have to get it," he gritted out, ringing out the extra water from a cloth. "Arms up."
Yamamoto did as told, lifting his one uninjured arm above his head and looking at Gokudera fretfully since he couldn't raise his other arm. He winced in shame when Gokudera heaved out a sigh, but screamed when Gokudera slammed him back down onto the ground and forced his shoulder back into place. The pain made Yamamoto convulse but Gokudera pulled him back up by the hair and started to dab off the blood and sweat with the cloth.
"Don't even bother saying sorry," Gokudera grumbled, picking off pieces of baked on blood with his fingernails. "You're in horrible condition."
All Yamamoto could do was nod and try not to black out from the pain. He felt Gokudera's fingers explore his wounds and he cringed when he fingered the ribs and pushed them back into place. He could barely notice how light the touch was or how Gokudera ghosted his fingertips over the more sensitive parts of Yamamoto's body. The only light that managed to get into the room was through the ajar window but Gokudera seemed to be doing fine with such little light.
When Gokudera finished washing Yamamoto he was shivering from the chill the water drew. Then he felt Gokudera press the bandages up against his torso and the touch from Gokudera warmed him up. Yamamoto smiled blissfully as Gokudera's hands pressed up against his repaired bones and up over his neck and shoulder, "You feel nice." Yamamoto murmured, his eyes closed, not paying attention to Gokudera or his hands.
"You don't," Gokudera quipped, ripping the bandage when he was done and finishing off the job. Yamamoto laid himself back down when Gokudera's hands removed themselves and pulled his kakebuton up to his chin. He beamed at Gokudera, silently thanking him before shutting his eyes to sleep and rest.
He didn't expect Gokudera to crawl onto the shikibuton with him and pull the kakebuton on top of himself. The fabric of Gokudera's jinbei rubbed up against Yamamoto's sensitive skin and he shivered. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and concentrated on not focusing on Gokudera's breathing beside him. "You don't need to put up with me doing this, Yamamoto," Gokudera growled.
Yamamoto didn't know what Gokudera meant until he felt Gokudera's hand curl around his dick and jerk sharply. He felt Gokudera's other hand spread his legs just enough so he could move in between them. "G-Gokudera?"
He felt Gokudera's slim fingers dig into the vein on the underside of his cock and Yamamoto made a pathetically submissive sound. His own hands reached up to find perch on Gokudera's shoulders but wound up wrapped around Gokudera's sides, forearms running up Gokudera's jinbei. Again, Yamamoto arched and pulled his knees up to Gokudera's hips, toes curling as Gokudera's thumbnail ran the length of the slit of Yamamoto's dick.
Another moan was issued, Yamamoto's body strung tight and back arching off the ground still as the muscles in his back refused to untighten. The pain from his broken ribs made the rough treatment from Gokudera more pleasurable and welcome. He made yet another eager sound as Gokudera's fingers flicked over Yamamoto's balls.
Yamamoto pulled his arms down from around Gokudera's back and moved them down to Gokudera's hips. "Yamamoto," Gokudera called, taking a hold of one of Yamamoto's wrists. "Don't run away." The words threw Yamamoto off. His eyes widened and he searched Gokudera's face for an answer.
Then Gokudera pulled Yamamoto's hand under the hem of his jinbei and moved Yamamoto's open palm to his own cock. Yamamoto gasped from the sensation before jittering a small "I-I won't." He curled his fingers around Gokudera's dick just as Gokudera had done for him. "This is fine. R-Right here is… fine."
Yamamoto saw Gokudera's eyebrows furrow and he gasped when Gokudera jerked his dick downwards and flicked his nails over Yamamoto's balls. "Are you sure?" Gokudera asked, seemingly unaffected by how Yamamoto's hand was moving up and down on his shaft.
"M-more sure th-than ever before," Yamamoto laughed breathily. His one free hand moved up and down Gokudera's chest, fingers clenching ever so slightly whenever Gokudera did something new with his hands. "This is fine, Gokudera."
The movements became bolder on Gokudera's part and eventually Yamamoto couldn't even move his hand as his stomach cramped. His semen spilled out onto his stomach and bruised torso. He cried -not from coming but from the pain as his ribs shifted again. Gently, he let the pads of his feet touch ground again and his arm dropped from Gokudera's chest to the shikibuton, fingers lightly curling around the cover fabric. "Gokudera." He breathed out, chest heaving despite the pain and eyes hazy.
He could feel Gokudera's eyes rake over his body and he let them. Yamamoto squeezed his one occupied hand tight and moved upwards, thumb harshly rubbing up against Gokudera's foreskin, pulling at it ever so slightly. A wet liquid filled his hand and he smiled, eyes closing. "Gokudera," Yamamoto mumbled again
"I still don't know why I took you in."
Yamamoto heard what Gokudera said, let it in and mulled over it. The burning behind his eyes intensified and he felt something drip down his cheeks. "I… I don't know either." Shaken from so much in such a small time period, Yamamoto laughed before sinking back into sleep.
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Tobacco Chills
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The love Yamamoto felt for his family was overwhelming.
The guilt he felt for killing them burdened him.
Gokudera had found him on the side of a road, beside a closed down sushi bar, crying into his yukata and asking for his mother. Gokudera had called out to him, calling him 'kid' and telling him to look up and stop crying. Silver hair was uncommon around the streets and so were green eyes so Yamamoto listened. He stood up, the bright red yukata slipping just past his knees and geta clacking when he took a step forward to meet the strange, older male.
He had taken Gokudera into the sushi bar to see his mother and father, lying slaughtered in cold blood, slumped over the serving tables.
"They spared me. It's my fault," Yamamoto whispered, looking at the corpses and holding onto Gokudera's hand tightly. It was one of the few times Gokudera had ever allowed Yamamoto to do such a thing. "I'm guilty. It was me."
Gokudera didn't say anything to Yamamoto, but pulled him away from the scene and fed him, bathed him, and got him new clothes.
Over a dish of sashimi Gokudera told him: "You did nothing. I'm sure it was the yakuza. It's probably not your fault."
Yamamoto looked up at him, dropping a piece of sashimi to the ground. The way Gokudera had said it so casually made something inside of Yamamoto crack. The adrenalin shot through his veins and he grabbed one of Gokudera's wrists. "What do you mean?" He didn't let his eyes wander from Gokudera's and his jaw locked. "It was my fault, just say it! I killed my parents!"
Unfazed, Gokudera pulled his wrist away and smacked Yamamoto's cheek lightly, keeping his palm there until Yamamoto calmed down. Yamamoto heaved, falling to his hands and knees as Gokudera kept his hand on Yamamoto's cheek. "If you think you did then you did. Feel that guilt and get over it, you brat." Gokudera withdrew his hand as Yamamoto bowed his head onto his forearms and sobbed as hard as he could. "It's alright." Gokudera mumbled, around his sashimi. "You'll be alright, Yamamoto."
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Temporary Cures
-End
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Key:
• geta: those fancy wooden shoes that are mucho cool.
• irezumi: traditional Japanese tattoos.
• jinbei: light cotton wear for males.
• kakebuton: a comforter for a shikibuton.
• kiseru: a traditional Japanese pipe.
• men-rui: noodles.
• miso-shiru: miso soup.
• moufu: the cover of the shikibuton.
• sake: Japanese liquor.
• sashimi: usually thinly sliced seafood.
• shikibuton: futon mattress.
• shogunate: the people in control at the time. military.
• shouji: rice paper screens. generally on sliding doors.
• tabi: socks worn with geta.
• yakuza: Japanese gangsters.
• yukata: a light cotton kimono.
More info can be found on wiki. The page on irezumi was very interesting
Fandom: KHR
Rating: R
-Characters: TYL!Gokudera/14!Yamamoto
-Warnings: Historical AU. Drug use. Pedophilia. Under aged drug-use. Over use of Japanese words.
Wordcount: 3.6k (3639) Beta - cruzle
Notes: Written for cruzle. She knows how much heartache this caused me and how emotional I got over it. All this for you baby. Anything for you. ♥
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Yamamoto was sure the bared thigh on Gokudera's part was intentional. The smoking man was on his illegal Victorian chair sitting sideways, long slender legs thrown over one of the arms of the chair. His claret-red yukata was sliding apart, baring the pale expanse of his thigh for the other to see. The locked room was dingy from the tobacco Gokudera was smoking from the end of his expensive kiseru. The raven-haired man had to swallow hard and keep his eyes from wandering down the man's thigh as more and more was revealed. He sat, amber eyes flickering back and forth between the other people laying around on the pillows Gokudera had strewn around the room. They were all smoking the same thing Gokudera had packed into the end of his kiseru and it was fogging up Yamamoto's mind.
The saliva in his mouth was thick and all he could do was swallow when Gokudera tilted his head back, rolling the smoke off his tongue and tapping his kiseru lightly against the back of his chair. "Yamamoto," he cooed, turning to look at the called man, his pupils wide. "You're so awkward, you can sit normally, dipshit."
"Y-yes." Yamamoto stuttered out, moving his calves away from under his weight and to the side. He licked his lips and straightened out his own jinbei, looking fretfully up at the older man. "Why are you here?" he asked, standing up and carefully approaching Gokudera, wobbling on his feet slightly. He noted that Gokudera watched his throat as he swallowed and then flicked his up to watch the sweat roll down his temple. "Gokudera?"
A small laugh left Gokudera's lips but it was cold and cruel, "Do you want to leave, Yamamoto?" He asked, pupils suddenly retracting. He stood, yukata sliding shut much to Yamamoto's displeasure. Gokudera was only slightly taller despite the ten years that separated them.
Yamamoto swallowed again and looked around, grinning smally and looking back at the door, "Yes." He mumbled, opening his shirt a little since the fog in the room was musty and hot. When he looked back at Gokudera, the silver-haired man was advancing. By second nature he winced, preparing to be hit, but Gokudera just ruffled his hair and moved to the door before stepping down and sliding on his geta. Quickly, Yamamoto followed and slid on his own geta, standing close to Gokudera and clinging onto the sleeve of Gokudera's yukata.
"You don't need to cling so much, Yamamoto. No one's going to take you." Gokudera mumbled, rubbing his eyes and stumbling over his own feet. Guilt welled up in Yamamoto's abdomen when he saw Gokudera slide his kiseru into his yukata pocket. Yamamoto just nodded and let go of Gokudera's sleeve and kept a few paces behind him. His mind was still foggy from the opium den which probably explained how he was acting. Even Yamamoto knew he was out-of-character to be so submissive besides there was nothing else he could do but fall back quietly and take Gokudera's orders.
They weren't all that bad in reality -Yamamoto was glad to follow them.
Even the clickity-clack of the horse's hooves and the roll of the wheels from the hay carts were hyper-intensive with his own state of mind -the sound ricocheted through his body. He bowed his head, looking down at his geta instead of up at Gokudera's brightly coloured yukata.
So when Yamamoto looked back up to find Gokudera, the silver-haired man was nowhere in sight.
The world slowed down and Yamamoto stopped in the middle of the street, looking at where Gokudera should had been -placed in front of him and telling him to hurry up and come along, that he wouldn't wait forever. His chest constricted and his eyes widened. He should have stayed still and waited for Gokudera to back-track but there was no time for waiting!
Yamamoto ran as fast as he could. He ran down the road, not caring if he got his tabi dirty from the mud since the last rain. It all didn't matter as he pushed through the crowds of people. They were looking at him strangely and some people tried to pull him aside, but he wouldn't let them. He slapped off their hands with an anxious smile before darting off again.
He wasn't even breathing heavy when he found himself in a part of town he didn't know. The sun was setting -they had left the den so late so that much was to be expected. The fact that he wasn't next to Gokudera making miso-shiru or a dish of men-rui for him made Yamamoto feel uncomfortable in his own skin. But Gokudera wasn't there. He shuffled himself off into a corner, by a small sake brewery and knelt down in the mud.
Maybe Gokudera would find him on his own. He kept his head bowed and listened to the sounds of the brewery behind him -he swallowed hard, half from fear and half because his spit was still so thick. The sunset was approaching quickly and people were making their way home already. Yamamoto curled up, resting his heavy head on his knees before settling down and waiting.
He didn't even know what time it was when the thugs came by -the yakuza given special pardon from the shogunate. They were carrying their weapons out in the open and Yamamoto sucked in his breath, trying not to make a sound. They walked close enough to him for him to see their irezumi tattoos and Yamamoto felt cornered. Swallowing hard, he looked up at them to find they were looking down at him. All he could do was close his eyes as they dragged him to his feet by the hem of his jinbei. Their accent was weird and it was hard for Yamamoto to keep up with their dialect. All he knew was his own and Gokudera's but he managed to pick out that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. When one of them pulled out their illegally imported brass knuckles Yamamoto swallowed hard again, preparing for the impact.
The first hit didn't hurt as much as the second and the second not as much as the third, but soon all the punches felt the same and went on through out the night.
✵✵✵
Opium Mines
✵✵✵
"You got lost."
It was the first thing Yamamoto heard when he woke up. He knew where he was sleeping -the shouji screens were illuminated with lantern light. The lightness on top of his chest signaled he only had his moufu around him. Yamamoto made a keening sound and his ribs grated against each other. His eye was swollen shut so that possibly could have explained the smoke in the room. It wouldn't have explained the disembodied voice. Even though his shoulder felt dislocated he shifted to look at the source of the voice.
Gokudera was laying down beside him on his tatami mat with his jinbei spread open wide while smoking his kiseru lazily. "And beaten. You should've followed me." He scolded, eyes raking over Yamamoto's face, taking in the scratches and the black eye. "You dumb fuck."
Instantly Yamamoto felt shame well in the pit of his stomach and spread up to blush his cheeks. He bowed his head even though he was laying down. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with Gokudera even though the older male had now moved to standing and was advancing on him quickly. "I didn't mean to get lost."
"No one means to get lost," Gokudera muttered before sitting and making Yamamoto sit up. The shriek of pain was indignant but there was so little Yamamoto could've done to prevent it. The pain was radiating throughout his body and all he could do was whimper as Gokudera manhandled him, taking inventory of all the bruises and wounds.
The way Gokudera fingered the black-eye was making Yamamoto nervous. The nerves were nothing compared to the pain of Gokudera slitting opening the bruise with the sharpened end of his kiseru. Yamamoto nearly howled but he held it in as best as he could, letting only a small mewl leave him. His blood was now torrenting down the side of his face in rivulets and dripping onto the purple moufu.
"Don't move." Gokudera said calmly, withdrawing the sharp metal from Yamamoto's face and now re-inspecting the wound. The disapproval was wafting off Gokudera and Yamamoto shuttered, closing his eyes and letting himself bleed with as much dignity he could muster. A sound was made at the back of Gokudera's throat as he squeezed the cut gingerly, getting Yamamoto's blood onto his fingers. Yamamoto's hands were tight around his moufu as he cringed from Gokudera's treatment.
Yamamoto flinched, jerking away from Gokudera's probing touch. His own fingers moved from moufu to under his blood-soaked jinbei, curling around the bruising on his ribcage with a wince. The tightening of Gokudera's grip around his jaw was uncomfortable but forgotten when Gokudera slammed his back down onto his shikibuton.
If Yamamoto hadn't known pain before, he knew it now. He screamed, unable to contain the noise as it ripped from his throat. The cracks of his ribs snapped to breaks with the force of the impact and the slits across the small of his back stretched and broke the scabs. The pain blackened the edge of his vision along with the tears that streamed out his eyes. He hiccupped, back arching from the pain, sobbed as loud as he could.
He didn't notice Gokudera straddling his waist but did notice the hand stroking his hair until the pain dulled. The relief was just enough for Yamamoto to crack out a "sorry" before crying once again. He pulled his un-injured arm up to cover his eyes and hide his tears. Gokudera was kissing the side of his neck and just below the ear, softly, to ease away the pain.
"I said stay still, you dumbass." Gokudera mumbled when he pulled away, looking down at Yamamoto. "Look at me."
The sleeve of Yamamoto's jinbei was soaking up both his blood and tears so he pulled his arm away, sniffling and staring Gokudera in the eyes. His eyes were red and puffy from crying so hard and his nose was running, but Gokudera still leaned down and kissed the slit on his temple. When Gokudera pulled back, Yamamoto spotted the blood that was smeared on his lips and also a small flicker of pity in Gokudera's jade eyes. Yamamoto choked on a sob before tossing his arm back over his eyes, baring his neck and crying once again, "I'm so sorry, Gokudera."
"Oh shush, I'm not angry," Gokudera soothed, rubbing Yamamoto's head and laying down beside him with a sigh. "Stop crying. It's pathetic." He ran the pad of this thumb down the creases of Yamamoto's hand and pressed against the calluses there. "You don't need to stop bleeding though. I'll wash it all up later."
"A-alright. I can do it though." Yamamoto reasoned, wiping his nose on his already ruined sleeve before putting it down by his side.
He felt Gokudera slide his had down his back and push Yamamoto up to sit. Gokudera moved behind him and picked up his kiseru and popped it into Yamamoto's mouth, the ember quickly catching when Gokudera lightly packed in more tobacco. "Just breath deep," Gokudera ordered, holding onto the wooden part of the kiseru for Yamamoto.
Yamamoto tried to look back at Gokudera but couldn't, so he did as told and took a deep puff from the kiseru. Smoke welled up in the back of his throat and moved down his throat, forcing him to start coughing. The pain rattled his body again and his back tightened from the twinge of his ribs. He pressed up against Gokudera, trying to find relief. When the coughing subsided, Gokudera shoved the kiseru back into Yamamoto's mouth and rested his chin on Yamamoto's uninjured shoulder. "Not as deep this time, alright?"
"Right." Yamamoto mumbled around the metal in his mouth and took a smaller pull of the kiseru, fondling the thick smoke with his tongue before breathing it out around the metal. The taste was still bitter but the texture beat it out. He pulled back again, peering at Gokudera from the corner of his eye to see if he was doing it right. He jerked slightly when he saw Gokudera's jade orbs glaring right back at him.
Only just a little off-put by the intense stare, Yamamoto moved his gaze back down at the bowl at the end of the kiseru. "Are you calmed down now?" Gokudera asked, pulling the kiseru away and putting it out.
Yamamoto nodded slightly, looking at Gokudera, his eyes finally clear and ribs only smarting him once every twitch. He swallowed again before grinning. "I’m feeling much better," he said smally, waiting for Gokudera to pull away again. But this time, Gokudera stayed there, his hand rubbing Yamamoto's injured side lighter than Yamamoto had ever felt before. Eventually Yamamoto relaxed into Gokudera's hold, slumping over just enough to take the pressure off his ribs and back, eyes sliding shut once again.
When he next opened his eyes he had been stripped of his clothing and his purple moufu had been replaced with his kakebuton. Yamamoto didn't even know when he had fallen asleep or when Gokudera had laid him back down on the shikibuton, but now the lantern-light was off and Gokudera didn't seem to be anywhere in sight. He waited for the shouji screen to slide open and reveal Gokudera, but when that didn't happen Yamamoto looked up at the ceiling instead.
There was movement outside the room but Yamamoto didn't think much of it until the shouji screen opened and Gokudera entered with a basin of water and a roll of bandages under his arm. Yamamoto sat up, much to his body's distress, and bowed his head out of respect. "You should have woken me to get the water-"
"Shut up," Gokudera snapped, placing the basin on the ground gingerly and laying the bandages next to it. "It's for you so you shouldn't have to get it," he gritted out, ringing out the extra water from a cloth. "Arms up."
Yamamoto did as told, lifting his one uninjured arm above his head and looking at Gokudera fretfully since he couldn't raise his other arm. He winced in shame when Gokudera heaved out a sigh, but screamed when Gokudera slammed him back down onto the ground and forced his shoulder back into place. The pain made Yamamoto convulse but Gokudera pulled him back up by the hair and started to dab off the blood and sweat with the cloth.
"Don't even bother saying sorry," Gokudera grumbled, picking off pieces of baked on blood with his fingernails. "You're in horrible condition."
All Yamamoto could do was nod and try not to black out from the pain. He felt Gokudera's fingers explore his wounds and he cringed when he fingered the ribs and pushed them back into place. He could barely notice how light the touch was or how Gokudera ghosted his fingertips over the more sensitive parts of Yamamoto's body. The only light that managed to get into the room was through the ajar window but Gokudera seemed to be doing fine with such little light.
When Gokudera finished washing Yamamoto he was shivering from the chill the water drew. Then he felt Gokudera press the bandages up against his torso and the touch from Gokudera warmed him up. Yamamoto smiled blissfully as Gokudera's hands pressed up against his repaired bones and up over his neck and shoulder, "You feel nice." Yamamoto murmured, his eyes closed, not paying attention to Gokudera or his hands.
"You don't," Gokudera quipped, ripping the bandage when he was done and finishing off the job. Yamamoto laid himself back down when Gokudera's hands removed themselves and pulled his kakebuton up to his chin. He beamed at Gokudera, silently thanking him before shutting his eyes to sleep and rest.
He didn't expect Gokudera to crawl onto the shikibuton with him and pull the kakebuton on top of himself. The fabric of Gokudera's jinbei rubbed up against Yamamoto's sensitive skin and he shivered. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and concentrated on not focusing on Gokudera's breathing beside him. "You don't need to put up with me doing this, Yamamoto," Gokudera growled.
Yamamoto didn't know what Gokudera meant until he felt Gokudera's hand curl around his dick and jerk sharply. He felt Gokudera's other hand spread his legs just enough so he could move in between them. "G-Gokudera?"
He felt Gokudera's slim fingers dig into the vein on the underside of his cock and Yamamoto made a pathetically submissive sound. His own hands reached up to find perch on Gokudera's shoulders but wound up wrapped around Gokudera's sides, forearms running up Gokudera's jinbei. Again, Yamamoto arched and pulled his knees up to Gokudera's hips, toes curling as Gokudera's thumbnail ran the length of the slit of Yamamoto's dick.
Another moan was issued, Yamamoto's body strung tight and back arching off the ground still as the muscles in his back refused to untighten. The pain from his broken ribs made the rough treatment from Gokudera more pleasurable and welcome. He made yet another eager sound as Gokudera's fingers flicked over Yamamoto's balls.
Yamamoto pulled his arms down from around Gokudera's back and moved them down to Gokudera's hips. "Yamamoto," Gokudera called, taking a hold of one of Yamamoto's wrists. "Don't run away." The words threw Yamamoto off. His eyes widened and he searched Gokudera's face for an answer.
Then Gokudera pulled Yamamoto's hand under the hem of his jinbei and moved Yamamoto's open palm to his own cock. Yamamoto gasped from the sensation before jittering a small "I-I won't." He curled his fingers around Gokudera's dick just as Gokudera had done for him. "This is fine. R-Right here is… fine."
Yamamoto saw Gokudera's eyebrows furrow and he gasped when Gokudera jerked his dick downwards and flicked his nails over Yamamoto's balls. "Are you sure?" Gokudera asked, seemingly unaffected by how Yamamoto's hand was moving up and down on his shaft.
"M-more sure th-than ever before," Yamamoto laughed breathily. His one free hand moved up and down Gokudera's chest, fingers clenching ever so slightly whenever Gokudera did something new with his hands. "This is fine, Gokudera."
The movements became bolder on Gokudera's part and eventually Yamamoto couldn't even move his hand as his stomach cramped. His semen spilled out onto his stomach and bruised torso. He cried -not from coming but from the pain as his ribs shifted again. Gently, he let the pads of his feet touch ground again and his arm dropped from Gokudera's chest to the shikibuton, fingers lightly curling around the cover fabric. "Gokudera." He breathed out, chest heaving despite the pain and eyes hazy.
He could feel Gokudera's eyes rake over his body and he let them. Yamamoto squeezed his one occupied hand tight and moved upwards, thumb harshly rubbing up against Gokudera's foreskin, pulling at it ever so slightly. A wet liquid filled his hand and he smiled, eyes closing. "Gokudera," Yamamoto mumbled again
"I still don't know why I took you in."
Yamamoto heard what Gokudera said, let it in and mulled over it. The burning behind his eyes intensified and he felt something drip down his cheeks. "I… I don't know either." Shaken from so much in such a small time period, Yamamoto laughed before sinking back into sleep.
✵✵✵
Tobacco Chills
✵✵✵
The love Yamamoto felt for his family was overwhelming.
The guilt he felt for killing them burdened him.
Gokudera had found him on the side of a road, beside a closed down sushi bar, crying into his yukata and asking for his mother. Gokudera had called out to him, calling him 'kid' and telling him to look up and stop crying. Silver hair was uncommon around the streets and so were green eyes so Yamamoto listened. He stood up, the bright red yukata slipping just past his knees and geta clacking when he took a step forward to meet the strange, older male.
He had taken Gokudera into the sushi bar to see his mother and father, lying slaughtered in cold blood, slumped over the serving tables.
"They spared me. It's my fault," Yamamoto whispered, looking at the corpses and holding onto Gokudera's hand tightly. It was one of the few times Gokudera had ever allowed Yamamoto to do such a thing. "I'm guilty. It was me."
Gokudera didn't say anything to Yamamoto, but pulled him away from the scene and fed him, bathed him, and got him new clothes.
Over a dish of sashimi Gokudera told him: "You did nothing. I'm sure it was the yakuza. It's probably not your fault."
Yamamoto looked up at him, dropping a piece of sashimi to the ground. The way Gokudera had said it so casually made something inside of Yamamoto crack. The adrenalin shot through his veins and he grabbed one of Gokudera's wrists. "What do you mean?" He didn't let his eyes wander from Gokudera's and his jaw locked. "It was my fault, just say it! I killed my parents!"
Unfazed, Gokudera pulled his wrist away and smacked Yamamoto's cheek lightly, keeping his palm there until Yamamoto calmed down. Yamamoto heaved, falling to his hands and knees as Gokudera kept his hand on Yamamoto's cheek. "If you think you did then you did. Feel that guilt and get over it, you brat." Gokudera withdrew his hand as Yamamoto bowed his head onto his forearms and sobbed as hard as he could. "It's alright." Gokudera mumbled, around his sashimi. "You'll be alright, Yamamoto."
✵✵✵
Temporary Cures
-End
✵✵✵
Key:
• geta: those fancy wooden shoes that are mucho cool.
• irezumi: traditional Japanese tattoos.
• jinbei: light cotton wear for males.
• kakebuton: a comforter for a shikibuton.
• kiseru: a traditional Japanese pipe.
• men-rui: noodles.
• miso-shiru: miso soup.
• moufu: the cover of the shikibuton.
• sake: Japanese liquor.
• sashimi: usually thinly sliced seafood.
• shikibuton: futon mattress.
• shogunate: the people in control at the time. military.
• shouji: rice paper screens. generally on sliding doors.
• tabi: socks worn with geta.
• yakuza: Japanese gangsters.
• yukata: a light cotton kimono.
More info can be found on wiki. The page on irezumi was very interesting